


Heels Over Head

by noblet



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 5 Times, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblet/pseuds/noblet
Summary: “I have something to tell you,” Shane says, and hemeansit this time.(Or,fivethree times Shane wanted to confess his feelings, and the one time he did)





	Heels Over Head

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be a five times fic, but I cut it down to three because I didn't have enough time. (ha ha)  
> Title comes from the song of the same title by Boys Like Girls.

There’s a certain spark hiding away in Ryan’s eyes tonight. 

Shane notices, as he always does, sees it in the way he looks at everything they pass with a sense of fear, amazement, dread, excitement. A million conflicting emotions rushing through his friend at a nearly impossible rate, coursing through his veins until they compose his entire being.

Night is falling quickly, Shane notes, so; they rush to location before it gets darker.

They are late, pulling up nearly an hour later than they’d planned to arrive. They scramble out of Ryan’s car, apologize to the waiting crew, and take a few moments to collect themselves before starting the shoot.

=====

“Oh, you are _adorable_ ,” Shane says, when, once the two of them are situated on the porch of the unsuspecting home, Ryan nudges him to open the door first. 

“Just do it,” Ryan commands weakly, desperation already lining his voice just a little. He’s tired, Shane can tell, tired, but afraid- and that’s always been Ryan’s secret weapon.

Shane nods, and he leads the way in.

=====

Shane watches with amusement as Ryan pulls a lone candle out of his bag and sets it on the table beside them. It’s tall, and once Ryan lights it, the flame is dishearteningly dim. 

Ryan takes a deep breath, and, without much fanfare, announces to Shane and the camera that they’ll attempt to summon a spirit tonight. He fiddles with his phone for a little bit, eventually placing it on the table between them.

“Uh, it says here-.” He sneaks a glance at Shane. “Gather everyone around the table and hold hands to create a circle.”

Shane resists the urge to roll his eyes before setting his camera down, hands trembling only slightly. He offers them up hesitantly, fingers outstretched, feels his heart beating against his chest. It’s so quiet- Ryan is so quiet, they could hear a pin drop. Their hands join, Shane’s enveloping Ryan’s, and they start reading aloud.

“Spirits of- can you see it?” Ryan laughs as Shane’s gaze snaps from Ryan’s face to the phone between them, pulled out of his thoughts.

“Oh, right,” Shane quickly responds, and leans over to read off of the script, ignoring the hammering of his heart as Ryan’s warm fingers twitch between his.

They read, monotonous, eventually pausing to wait for a response. There isn’t any. The moment- if it can be called one at all- passes as quickly as it came, and their night continues.

♔ 

The howl of the wind is the stuff of nightmares. It’s even enough to keep Shane awake, and that’s saying something.

“Hey, Ry,” Shane whispers into the darkness, once he gets bored of listening to the house creak.

Ryan stirs in his sleeping bag, probably moving to face Shane in the dark. “I fucking hate this, man,” Ryan complains for the hundreth time that night. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done."

Without saying a word, Shane slips out of his bag and moves all of his stuff towards Ryan, closing the gap between them.

“There,” Shane says as he settles back into his sleeping bag like it was nothing. “Feel better?”

Ryan is silent for a moment, blindly feels around until he grabs hold of what he thinks is Shane’s wrist, confirming that he is, in fact, _here_. “A lot better,” he admits. “I didn’t know that you were-”

“Awake?” Shane offers. “It’s noisy as hell outside. I figured you’d get spooked out or something.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” Ryan mumbles. “Hey, um, are you okay with-”

He refers to the fact that they’re holding hands, now. Shane had slipped his hand into Ryans when he'd grabbed hold of his wrist, by instinct, he supposes. Shane’s resting in a bit of an awkward position, back completely flat against the floor, but he thinks he can make this work. He wants to make this work.

“Of course, I mean yeah,” Shane assures him. “If this is all it takes to get you to sleep through the night, hell, I’ll start doing it all the time.” His face feels like it’s burning. There’s something about not being able to see Ryan’s face that makes him speak a little bit bolder.

Ryan’s hand subconsciously tightens around his.

“Okay,” Ryan says with an air of finality- whether he’s talking to Shane or the supposed spirits, he doesn’t know. “I’m going to try sleeping now.”

Shane doesn’t say a word. Instead, he stares at the moonlight shining through the slats in the window, feeling the weight of Ryan’s hand in his. Feels like he’s flying. Almost surreal. 

Once Ryan’s breathing falls into regularity, Shane closes his eyes and allows himself to sleep as well. 

♔ 

“I have something to tell you,” Shane says one day when they’re three hours into an eight-hour drive to Arizona. 

“Hm?”

 _I think I love you_ , Shane wants to say. It seems so easy- it should be, if it weren’t for that goddamn _what if_.

He looks through the window and stares at the passing fields of golden plain that stretch out into eternity. The sun is setting. Dusk will fall soon.

 _What if._ His mind berates him. _What if what if what if._

“What?” Ryan asks, keeping his eyes on the road for the most part.

“Oh, nothing,” Shane says. “Just-” He leans over to switch on the AC. “Thinking out loud.”

♔

The days push on, and the season’s end creeps up on them before they know it. 

“Well, it’s been a real doozy,” is all Ryan has to say once they finish taping their final Postmortem. He leans back in his seat after the cameras shut off and looks over at Shane, who’s beaming at him like a dumbass. 

“Yeah. That one time you shit yourself when a pigeon flew into your face? A real doozy.” His smile is all teeth.

Ryan just shakes his head and laughs.

=====

“So, what now?” Ryan asks once they reconjure back at their desks.

Shane leans over. “I have an offer for you that you can’t refuse.”

Ryan looks at him doubtfully.

“Come over to my place tonight,” Shane proposes. “One more haunted sleepover before we move on to True Crime. What do you say?”

“Haunted? Like, what, you have some kind of ghost roommate?” 

“His name’s, uh, Cayenne.”

Ryan laughs. “Cayenne? Like the fucking pepper?”

“I don’t know, Ryan,” Shane says, exasperated. “I’m not an improv person by any means.”

“That’s a fucking stripper name,” Ryan wheezes. "Like if a jar of spice were a stripper- yeah, I’d love to come over.”

=====

“Dude, you have, like, zero food in your fridge. What the hell do you eat?”

“Snoop much?” Shane gibes. He collects a set of plates and cups from his living room coffee table and meekly places them in the kitchen sink. His place is in ruins- something he’d failed to remember beforehand.

“You’re a mess of a man.” Ryan points out the obvious, standing in the middle of Shane’s kitchen now. It feels weird, a little bit, watching Ryan stand in a place that’s his, looking like he both does and doesn’t belong there at the same time. It makes Shane feel sad in a strange way, looking at a version of their lives that won’t really exist, not in this lifetime, not yet, anyway.

 _Fuck_ , Shane thinks, and continues gathering his misplaced belongings as Ryan criticizes his kitchenware. _I'm in it deep._

=====

“I have something to tell you,” Shane says, and he _means_ it this time. 

Ryan sits up a little straighter. They’re on Shane’s couch, now, halfway through some movie that neither of them are interested in. Ryan leans over to grab the remote and mutes it.

Shane sighs and turns his body so he’s facing Ryan. “I don’t want this to- It’s just something that I need to say.” He makes a vague motion with his hands. 

As far as Ryan’s concerned, Shane hasn’t said anything of value yet.

“And I don’t want things to be weird,” Shane adds. “But I think you’re a great guy, and we’ve spent a lot of time together, and I think I’ve started to-” He shakes his head, looks around the room a bit to avoid Ryan’s gaze because fuck, _this_ is one of the scariest things he’s ever done. 

“I- like you,” Shane finally says, forcing himself to make eye contact. “A lot.” He fights to steady his voice. “And I don’t know what that means to you, but if you’re not comfortable with me on the show anymore, I could leave, or-”

He’s cut off when Ryan leans over and presses his lips against Shane’s.

And suddenly he’s kissing him. _Ryan’s_ kissing him. Shane’s been kissed before, but shit, it's never been like _this_. He lets out a small whimper, finally regaining a bit of his senses before bringing his hands up to cup Ryan’s face, kissing him back. Ryan’s got a hand resting against the back of Shane’s neck, and he keeps it there once they pull apart.

“Ryan,” Shane finally breathes. “Ryan. _Ryan _." He’s smiling so hard his face hurts.__

__Ryan grabs his hand like it’s nothing strange, as if he’s done it a million times. “For the record,” Ryan says, “I’ve always had a needling suspicion that you- you know.”_ _

__Shane pinkens. “And you never said anything?”_ _

__“In my defense, it’s just nice to see you scared for once,” Ryan laughs._ _

__Shane looks at him dumbfounded. “I guess I had it coming,” he says matter of factly._ _

__“Could be worse, right?” Ryan leans in closer, and Shane follows suit._ _

__“I should’ve told you sooner,” Shane says, and kisses him again._ _

**Author's Note:**

> This was orignally a 4000 word mess, but I cut it down the best I could without spending too much time on it. Not sure if I'll write more of this fandom in the future, I guess only time can tell.


End file.
